


The Last Two Days Of Frank Iero's Life

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Sad Ending, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9477860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Frank is sad, unhappy, depressed.These are the last two days of his life.





	

Day One

 

“Frank?”  
  
  
  
I jumped, dropping the blade in the sink. Gerard had scared the shit out of me.  
  
  
  
Thankfully, the door was closed, so he couldn’t see what I was about to do.  
  
  
  
“Y-yes, Gerard?”  
  
  
  
“I… I just wanted to say I was sorry. It-- the fight we just had, it was so fucking stupid. I’ve just been so stressed lately…”  
  
  
  
I looked up into the mirror and scoffed lightly, not loud enough from him to hear. “I know, baby. I’m sorry for overreacting.” I replied, looking down into the sink at the silver blade.  
  
  
  
I was itching to feel that against my skin, and the fight earlier had given me an excuse. I had been limiting myself lately, only cutting when I felt I needed to, or when the occasion had called for it.  
  
  
  
And damn him for trying to amend it so soon.  
  
  
  
“C-can you come out?” I heard him sniff from the other side, and I ran my hands over my face, and shook my head lightly.  
  
  
  
“Why?”  
  
  
  
“Because I love you and I don’t like fighting with you.”  
  
  
  
Damn him.  
  
  
  
Damn him.  
  
  
  
“Yeah just… just give me a moment. Go put on a movie.” I responded, and I heard him murmur, and his footsteps shuffled away.  
  
  
  
I turned my attention to the blade, picking it up. I could get away with a little nick on my thigh, maybe near my armpit. He’d never check there, and even if he did, I could just say it was from the cat.  
  
  
  
I clicked my tongue, and tucked the blade back into the medicine cabinet, deciding against it. I knew that Gerard had only come to the bathroom because he knew I would try to cut again.  
  
  
  
Damn him.  
  
  
  
I turned on the faucet and splashed some cold water on my face, getting rid of the tear tracks, the smudged liner.  
  
  
  
The dispute, as stupid as it was, had been a buildup, and was inevitable. His parents, Mikey, my mom. They didn’t want us together. They knew how toxic we were, how fucked up we made each other.  
  
  
  
I chuckled mirthfully, wiping my face with a towel.  
  
  
  
“Stay sane, Frankie.” I mumbled to my reflection, before exiting the bathroom.  
  
  
  
Walking down the hallway, I reached the living room of our modest apartment.  
  
  
  
Gerard was lounging in the recliner, sketching something on his pad, occasionally glancing up at the movie, which I determined to be Alien 3.  
  
  
  
I cleared my throat, and he looked up, his mouth turned into a small smile.  
  
  
  
“Hi,” He mumbled, turning his attention back to his sketchpad.  
  
  
  
“Hi.” I walked over and stood in front of him, and waited for him to notice I wanted to be close to him.  
  
  
  
He set his pad aside after a minute and shifted, making room for me. I climbed onto the recliner, curled up next to him, and sighed.  
  
  
  
We sat and watched as Ripley tried to convince Clemens to perform an autopsy on Newt for a few moments, before Gerard spoke.  
  
  
  
“Were you going to do it again?”  
  
  
  
I didn’t look up at him, but I shook my head. “No. I told you, I wasn’t going to do it anymore.”  
  
  
  
He stayed silent, so I assume he let the subject go.  
  
  
  
Until he piped up with, “Why do you feel the need to lie to me?”  
  
  
  
I sighed exasperatedly, and moved to get off the recliner. “Gerard, I’m not lying to yo--”  
  
  
  
“Then why was there a clink in the sink when I said your name?”  
  
  
  
I stopped, my mouth still open. “I--I--”  
  
  
  
Gerard scowled at me and got off the chair, standing up and turning around to stare at me.  
  
  
  
“Why? Why, Frank, why? Why would you lie to me about hurting yourself?”  
  
  
  
I bite my lip. _Because I’m unhappy, Gerard. I’m so angry and upset that I can’t deal with this. I love you, but goddamn, I want to fucking kill myself._  
  
  
  
I couldn’t say that to him. Fuck, he’s my first love. I wasn’t his, but I know that I meant… something to him, even if it wasn’t in the way he meant to me.  
  
  
  
And although there are times I wish I hadn’t pursued him, there was nothing I could do about it now.  
  
  
  
“B-because… because…” I could feel the lump forming in my throat, and I knew the tears would follow shortly.  
  
  
  
Don’t fucking cry.  
  
  
  
Don’t fucking cry.  
  
  
  
I felt a warm embrace as Gerard wrapped his arms around me, hugging me close. He must’ve seen the way my eyes started to water.  
  
  
  
“Frank, shh. It’s okay, baby, I’m not angry. I’m just worried.” Gerard whispered soothingly in my ear, and that only served to make me sob harder.  
  
  
  
“I know, it’s just…” I sniffed, and took a moment to catch my breath, “I’m so sad, Gerard. It fills me, the emptiness. I don’t know how to deal with it.”  
  
  
  
“I know, baby, I know. I know what it’s like.” Gerard said, as he stroked my hair and hummed to me softly.  
  
  
  
I knew that he understood what I was going through, he’d gone through it at seventeen. I was there, at fifteen, dealing with a suicidal boyfriend.  
  
  
  
But now, instead of being fifteen, I’m seventeen years old, depressed and living with my fucking boyfriend because my mother can’t bear to look at me, knowing she’d lost her only son to…  
  
  
  
To what exactly?  
  
  
  
Was I dead to her? Was it because I had lost my innocence? Was it because I started doing drugs? Was it because I was stuck in a dysfunctional relationship with a man that I had fallen in love with at a young age? Was it because he and I were so young, but we acted like we had shit figured out?  
  
  
  
Maybe those were the reasons she had let me go, because she didn’t know who I was anymore.  
  
  
  
And that brought her pain.  
  
  
  
I didn’t blame her.  
  
  
  
After the… incident, when Gerard left, she was the one who picked me up, put me back together. I had no one, just her.  
  
  
  
I remember the nights where I would have nightmares, seeing the man I loved leave over and over again.  
  
  
  
Gerard’s words, stinging my flesh like knives, piercing my heart like a bullet.  
  
  
  
_“Frank, I never loved you. I thought you knew that.”_  
  
  
  
The endless pain, the infinite sadness. Empty, hopeless feeling.  
  
  
  
My mother sat night after night, comforting me. I was always thankful for that. But then my grades started slipping, I started hanging with the wrong crowd.  
  
  
  
Drugs followed, then the cutting. Mom didn’t know what to do. Her sixteen year old son was spiraling down, and she was helpless to stop it.  
  
  
  
I didn’t care, as long as I filled that hole Gerard had left in me with something, whether it be drugs or scars.  
  
  
  
But my seventeenth birthday came around, and lo and behold, Gerard came back into my life, a changed person.  
  
  
  
That was the day she kicked me out.  
  
  
  
So now, sitting here in my boyfriend’s arms, I can’t help but wish I was dead. As much as I loved him, I could never forgive him fully. I ruined my relationship with my mother, but at least I had Gerard.  
  
  
  
But sometimes, I felt like I didn’t.

 

Day Two

  
  
My birthday is today.  
  
  
  
It’ll be my first without my mother.  
  
  
  
It’ll be my second with Gerard.  
  
  
  
I had fallen asleep the night before, exhausted after crying into Gerard’s shoulder. I had completely forgotten that today was my eighteenth birthday.  
  
  
  
Until Gerard woke me up with a gentle kiss, and a gentle “Happy Birthday.”  
  
  
  
I groaned, dreading the events to come.  
  
  
  
I was getting older, and that made me want to die even more. I couldn’t help that my first thought was to go to the bathroom and cut, maybe take a couple of hydros left over after Gerard’s mouth surgery.  
  
  
  
Even though they were thoughts, I didn’t act on them.  
  
  
  
Not today.  
  
  
  
Gerard had left me in the bedroom, waiting for me to wake up. I stretched, and yawned, but didn’t emerge from my warm spot underneath the covers.  
  
  
  
I fell asleep for five minutes, until I woke up to a hand caressing my face.  
  
  
  
“Mmph.” I mumbled, swatting the hand away.  
  
  
  
“Babe, get up.”  
  
  
  
“No.”  
  
  
  
“Frank,” Gerard sighed; his hand had stopped touching my face. “I’m going to pour water on you.”  
  
  
  
“Like hell you are, you son of a bitch,” I growled, turning away from Gerard, pushing him with my foot.  
  
  
  
I felt the bed shift and Gerard’s hot breath against my ear. “You think I’m bluffing?” he whispered, and my mouth curled into a smile.  
  
  
  
“Yes, I call bullshit. You wouldn’t pour water on me, not on ickle Frankie’s special day.” I said, turning back to him and giving him a shit eating grin.  
  
  
  
Gerard glared at me. “Ickle Frankie better get his ass up before I do pour water on him.”  
  
  
  
“Do it. Fucking dare you.” I hold his glare, waiting for him to break it, and he does. Smiling, I turn away and try to fall back asleep, listening as he walks out of the room.  
  
  
  
I heard footsteps and I turned around to see Gerard holding a cup, and I bolted my ass out of bed just as he threw the ice cold water onto my body.  
  
  
  
I gasped, screeching as the water hit, the cold air only made it worse.  
  
  
  
“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” I screamed, jumping over the bed and chasing after him as he ran, screaming playfully.  
  
  
  
“I told you to get your ass out of bed Frankie!” Gerard yelled, jumping over the couch, trying to avoid his inevitable capture and death.  
  
  
  
“I’m going to throttle you, you sick son of a bitch,” I growled, gripping the back of the couch tightly.  
  
  
  
“Gotta catch me first.” Gerard stuck his tongue out and moved quickly, sprinting down the hall and into the bathroom, clicking the lock.  
  
  
  
“Can’t catch me now, but guess what? You’re awake!” I heard him say from behind the door.  
  
  
  
“I’m gonna kill you, Gerard.” I mumbled, leaning against the door and sliding down it till my ass was on the ground.  
  
  
  
Things got quiet after that, until I heard a tinkling noise.  
  
  
  
“Are… are you seriously pissing right now?” I said, and Gerard just laughed.  
  
  
  
“I had to go, Frank.”  
  
  
  
I sighed and got up, stretching. “I’m going to go make coffee.”  
  
  
  
“Okay.” Gerard replied, giggling to himself.  
  
  
  
I glared at the door but shuffled away, into the kitchen, wincing at the way my wet shirt stuck to my cold body.  
  
  
  
I stripped off my shirt and threw it into a corner, knowing Gerard would pick it up later.  
  
  
  
Getting the coffeemaker ready, I opened the drawer to get two spoons when I see the razorblade, sitting there.  
  
  
  
My hand itched. My skin itched.  
  
  
  
My fingers reached for the blade, finally touching the cold smooth metal. I picked it up, turning it around with my fingers, before letting sit in the palm of my hand.  
  
  
  
My heartbeat thundered in my ears, my breathing shallow.  
  
  
  
I could just end it, right here, right now, right in the kitchen.  
  
  
  
The sound of flushing startled me, and I quickly slipped the blade into the pocket of my pajamas, getting the spoons like I had originally planned, and slammed the drawer closed just as Gerard walked into the room.  
  
  
  
“Jeez, you okay?” Gerard joked, rubbing his hands on my shoulders. “Already you’re slamming things. That usually doesn’t happen until about noon or so.”  
  
  
  
I rolled my eyes, moving away from him to grab two mugs out of the cupboard. “Piss off, Gerard.”  
  
  
  
Gerard laughed and pulled me close, placing a kiss on my temple. “Only joking.”  
  
  
  
I smiled and pulled away, turning around to give him a kiss. “I know.”  
  
  
  
A grin took over his face and it warmed my heart a little. Little moments like this, ones where it’s just me and him, being domestic, being Frank and Gerard, they almost made me feel less sad. Less scared. Less empty.  
  
  
  
But they never really took the pain away, or dulled it. Never took away the feeling of wanting to die.  
  
  
  
I hugged him, burying my face in his neck and tried to keep the little bubble of love from popping.  
  
  
  
“I love you,” he murmured, petting my hair and holding me tightly, and I felt a wave of unwanted emotion take over me.  
  
  
  
“I love you too,” I replied, suppressing the tears that threatened to leave my eyes.  
  
  
  
I had decided that today would be the day I die.  
  
  
******  
  
  
Gerard had me wrapped up with him in the bed, singing softly to me, tired and euphoric in his post-orgasmic glow.  
  
  
  
We’d gone to the music store after breakfast, and he’d told me I could pick out anything I wanted, so I did, selecting a few vinyls and a new guitar pick. After that, we had gone to the park, grabbing ice cream along the way, and sat on a bench and watched the people walk by, laughing and talking, exchanging a couple of kisses. We'd gone to a movie after that, some cheesy, bad horror flick that we laughed at the entire time, and came back home, where he'd given me my final present, the most obvious.  
  
  
  
It was perfect, and in a way all of the nice things had only made my decision seem more selfish, more cowardly, more harmful.  
  
  
  
But I didn't care.  
  
  
  
Gerard had finally stopped singing, his light caresses on my back non-existent as he fell into a deep sleep.  
  
  
  
I slowly extricated myself from my sleeping boyfriend and studied his face, memorizing it, before chuckling mirthfully to myself.  
  
  
  
What would be the point of memorizing something I wouldn't be able to see in death?  
  
  
  
Taking a deep breath, I reach over him and grab pen and paper off of his sidetable; he uses it to draw or write down ideas.  
  
  
  
My hands are shaky, but I manage to uncap the pen and press it against the paper, waiting for the words to come to me.  
  
  
  
They do.  
  
  
  
**_I love you, Gerard. I always will. But you and I both know this is the best decision. The only decision._ ** **_  
_ **  
  
  
I look over at him and smile, watching his face twitch in his sleep, and I drag my thumb across his lips before returning to the task at hand.  
  
  
  
**_Don't… don't blame yourself. I was never happy, love, and it wasn't because of you._ **  
  
  
  
My hand begins to shake more, and I can feel the tears streaming down my face, hitting the pale white of the paper.  
  
  
**_I never thought saying goodbye would be this hard, but it's tearing me apart. Knowing that you'll wake, only to find yourself alone, wondering where I'd gone. I expect you'll look for me, but not in the most obvious of places._ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_And when you finally see what I have done, I know you'll blame yourself, and you’ll wonder how you could have prevented it. Don't blame yourself, don't ponder the what ifs. Please. I know I'm leaving you with so many unanswered questions, so many doubts._ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_But you'll move on, and I know you will be happy. It's a twisted sort of gift, isn't it, but it's the best one I can give you: true happiness in the face of tragedy._ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Just know, I love you. I always have. I always will._ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Goodbye, Gerard._ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_-Frank_ ** **_  
_ **  
  
  
I sniff, placing the note on my pillow and giving him one final kiss before leaving bed, pulling on my clothes, and carefully opening the drawer containing the blade I had found earlier.  
  
  
  
Tiptoeing out of the room, I pull on my hoodie, before walking out the door into the chilly October night air.  
  
  
  
I have a set destination in mind, one that held much importance to me when Gerard and I started dating.  
  
  
  
Feet moving in sync, I walk with purpose towards my destination: the small little cave Gerard and I had discovered when we were younger. It wasn't anything grand, just a sanctuary filled with rocks and moss, a place where I had spent most of my days waiting for Gerard to come back, hoping he'd find me in our place and apologize, saying it was all a mistake.  
  
  
  
It was the place I had run to when we had our first fight after I'd moved in.  
  
  
  
It was the place where I had felt safest, where I had felt close to Gerard.  
  
  
  
It was the place where we began.  
  
  
  
And now, it would be the place where I end.  
  
  
  
Standing at the mouth of the cave, I smile, noticing that nothing had changed since I'd last been up here. The big rocks in the far back that had served as chairs still stood, with only a few cracks. The walls still were covered in that ghastly green paint that we'd thrown around all those years ago, our handprints faintly standing in stark yellow against the green.  
  
  
  
The moonlight casted a faint glow, giving the cave a ghostly and eerie feel to it, which made me shudder.  
  
  
  
I shook myself and strode to one of the rocks, throwing myself on it and glanced at the mouth of the cave, making sure Gerard hadn't followed.  
  
  
  
I pulled out the blade, twirling it in my fingers briefly before placing the sharp tip vertically against my wrist, biting my lip.  
  
  
  
This was it. The moment before I end my life, the moment where everything supposedly hits me all at once. The moment where I contemplate whether or not I'm making the wrong decision. The moment where I have the last chance to back out, the moment where I choose to go back home, slide into bed with my boyfriend, and seek help in the morning. This is the moment where I have a choice to change my life, for better or for worse.  
  
  
  
But oddly, I feel no hesitation, no contemplation, no fear. I feel… exhilaration. Need. Excitement. I feel… freedom.  
  
  
  
I feel everything that I haven't when Gerard left.  
  
  
  
I press the blade hard, and it pierces my skin, red oozing from the wound, and I cry out, the pain making everything bright. I drag it all the way up my arm, watching the blood spill, my precious life force staining the cold, wet stone of the cave floor.  
  
  
  
I let the razor blade fall from my hands, and it lands on the stone floor with a clink.  
  
  
  
I lean back, and let myself bleed out, waiting for the clouds to appear in my eyes, and for them to fade into black.  


Epilogue-Gerard's POV

  
  
Like all things, I knew we would come to an end.  
  
  
  
I knew Frank was sad.  
  
  
  
I knew Frank was unhappy.  
  
  
  
I knew it partially had to do with my leaving, and my arrival back into his life.  
  
  
  
I knew it also had to do with his alienation from his mother.  
  
  
  
I knew that the signs were there.  
  
  
  
I knew that no matter how much I loved him, it wouldn't have been enough to keep him in this world.  
  
  
  
I knew, I knew, I knew.  
  
  
  
It's funny; they say knowledge is power, and everyone knows that if you have power, you could rule the world.  
  
  
  
But what they don't tell you, is that knowledge is useless when it comes to facing the death of a loved one.  
  
  
  
Waking up and finding the note wasn't the worst part.  
  
  
  
The worst part wasn't when I was trying to figure out where exactly he had gone.  
  
  
  
The worst part wasn't the tear in my heart when I found him, lying cold, dead on the cave floor.  
  
  
  
The worst part wasn't when I was clinging to his corpse, crying, screaming, wailing.  
  
  
  
The worst part wasn't that I lost my entire world, and that there was nothing I could do to bring him back.  
  
  
  
The worst part wasn't even that Frank Iero died alone.  
  
  
  
No.  
  
  
  
Do you know what the worst part in this was?

  
  
The worst part was knowing that Frank Iero, the man I loved, took his own life.

 

And he did it, with a smile on his face.


End file.
